Haunted
by Dark Aegis
Summary: He couldn’t run forever, much as he had wanted to. Guilt would always find him.


**Title:** Haunted  
**Author:** Gillian Taylor  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters:** Nine/Rose  
**Summary:** _He couldn't run forever, much as he had wanted to. Guilt would always find him._  
**Spoilers:** Dalek  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own them. I just like playing with them...a lot.  
**Archive:** Sure, just let me know.

**A/N:** Thanks, as always, to my lovely betas NNWest and WMR, without whom I'm sure this would've been a rambling mess :)

* * *

_"Haunted"  
By Gillian Taylor_

It was here.

Just down the hallway.

Just beyond the corner.

It was there. His past. And it was searching for him.

Run. Run away. Fast, as hard, as quickly as he could. Through corridors that stretched to infinity. Down hallways that were cluttered with the accumulated junk of nine hundred years of travel through time and space. Past rooms that had once housed old companions. Through rooms that had not been opened – would not be opened – in this life.

It was coming.

Faster now. Just behind him.

It was only a matter of time. He couldn't run forever, much as he had wanted to. Guilt would always find him. It was the companion he could never leave. Like Death, it was always there. Just behind him. Just around the corner. Waiting for him.

His past.

Death. Destruction. So many lives lost due to his actions or inactions. Some would be appalled to learn just how many people he had killed, how many planets were gone because of him.

Ka Faraq Gatri. Destroyer of Worlds. Coward. The Oncoming Storm. The Last Time Lord. His labels. His past.

What is in a name?

Doctor.

What did it mean? What did it signify? A coward running from his past?

It was here.

If he turned around. If he spun in place, it would be there. The significance of all that he had lost. All that he could gain. Everything wrapped within one tiny, fragile, human soul.

"Doctor?"

He closed his eyes and fought against clenching his hands into fists. She did not know. Had no idea just what she meant to him. How he loved and hated her at the same time. How he cared so deeply that it frightened him. How she had managed to sneak past his defences and settle somewhere within his hearts. How she represented what he could not allow himself to have. Could never let himself have.

He was not worth it.

Not worth her.

Not worth this.

He wanted to run, wanted to flee, wanted to escape, but she was there. Ever behind him, ever beside him, ever with her hand within his.

Guilt. Death. Love. All wrapped up and packaged tightly within a nineteen year old shopgirl from London.

He led. She followed. Sometimes, she would lead but not often. She was a reminder. A symbol. A truth. Life was short for a human. Always was, always would be. Such a short brief time travelling through time and space for what? To die? At his hands? Because of his action or inaction?

Story of his life in a word: death. Born from death, trailing death behind, accompanied by death, and surrendering to her in the end. But there was no end. Not for him. Never for him. He would regenerate, burn, and regain life. She, however, she would die. Inevitable. Unstoppable.

He wanted to run, wanted to flee, wanted to deny just what could happen. What would happen. She would live. Had to live. And he should just die.

"Doctor?"

He had to answer her. Had to reply. An eternity in a second. "Yeah?"

"Everything a'right?"

No. How could it be? She was guilt. She would die. She was love. Nothing was all right. Could never be 'all right' ever again. She lived. She was his past, present, and future in one fragile ape form. And she could never know. "Yeah."

"Y'sure?" She sounded so sceptical. She should be.

"Yup. Positive." Ever the liar. The summation of his life. Lie to her. Lie to himself. Lie to the universe.

"Liar."

He turned toward her. The past glowed in her eyes and he felt himself falter. "I never lie." He just omits. Ignores. Forgets. But she won't let him.

She moved closer to him and he fought the urge to step back. "Liar."

He could not deny it. Not this time. He looked away, unable to continue to meet her burning gaze.

The feel of her slender arms slipping around his tense body startled him and he looked down at her tousled blonde head in shock. What was she doing?

"If 'm wrong, tell me. But I thought you needed a hug." The words were mumbled into his jacket and his eyes widened in shock.

A hug. She thought he needed a hug. As if by their own accord, his own arms wrapped her securely against him. Maybe this was what he needed. No more running.

Rose Tyler might represent his past, present and future. She might represent his guilt, and the ever-present possibility of death. But she meant something more than that. Something far stronger than guilt or death. Something that she – the tiny, fragile ape that she was – signified.

No more running. Less guilt. Hopefully, no more death. At least, not for a long time.

For now. In this moment. This second. This tiny, fragile moment of infinity. Rose was exactly what he needed, though he could never voice the words out loud. Actions speak louder than words and he sighed, giving into the urge as he tightened his hold upon her.

He pressed a gentle kiss against her hair and closed his eyes. She was right. This was what he needed. This smart little human, no, this smart woman named Rose Tyler, knew exactly what he needed. No more running.

"Y'know what?" he said. "You were right." And she was.

Rose Tyler meant so many different things. Life. Death. Guilt.

But strongest of them all was love.

_FIN_


End file.
